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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27704878">Loser</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/spae/pseuds/spae'>spae</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Anal Fingering, Anal Play, Anal Sex, Ass Play, Harry Potter Epilogue What Epilogue | EWE, M/M, Oral Sex, POV First Person, Rimming</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-11-25</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-11-25</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-10 14:21:45</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>5,165</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27704878</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/spae/pseuds/spae</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>First person monologue. </p><p>Draco tells all about his relationship with Harry, explaining the reason he is with a loser.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>3</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>74</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Loser</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Originally created between 2006-08, I think maybe. I was younger then. That's my excuse.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>I love Harry when he's like this: on his back, legs spread as wide as he can for me, cock bouncingly hard on his stomach smearing his skin with sticky pre-come.<br/><br/>He lost, you know. I know, because I won.<br/><br/>I have the Golden Boy of the Wizarding World panting in my bed, begging for my touch, desperate for release. I've had him for a while.<br/><br/>I have Harry Potter, the Chosen One, waking me up every morning with a hot, wet mouth around my dick – leisurely, as if he has all day to worship it – and I wish I could stay in this half-awake state of Pottered bliss, but I can't and we both know it. My dick twitches in his mouth, getting harder, if possible, and he pulls back to lick me teasingly, those impossibly <em>Harry</em> eyes staring at me mischievously from his position between my legs; sometimes I'll pull him around and suck his glorious cock while he sucks mine, or I'll haul him up for a kiss and a mutual handjob that will please us both, but <em>damn,</em> sometimes just watching him suck me off while desperately stripping his own cock is <em>so fucking</em> <em>hot</em>.<br/><br/>I have the fucking Boy-Who-Lived in my shower, shivering in spite of the hot water because I have three fingers buried deep in his arse as I suck him, inhaling his eight inches like it's meant to live in my throat, feeling him quake and quiver, and swallowing his seed like it’s the water of life.<br/><br/>I have the perfect Gryffindor - if we don't give Dumbledore credit, and I <em>never</em> do - in the kitchen, (at least in the London apartment: I'm pretty sure the house elves at the manor would have a fit if he went in with the intention of cooking). Not that I've ever actually seen him cook, if I remember correctly; generally we get food sent from the manor, or maybe take-out. Despite this, the apartment kitchen is still Harry's kingdom - always filled with artisan chocolate, cardamom pods and vanilla essence and a hundred other things he deems absolutely necessary. I’ve found him in there at the strangest times. Coming home one evening I found him lying on the table, covered in an unidentified shiny brown substance. His mouth may have told me he had made a mess, but his eyes invited me to devour him.<br/><br/>I knew he would lose.<br/><br/>I knew it the first time I let him fuck me - the only man ever to do it and the last. I knew it as he moaned into my mouth as he prepared me, murmuring filth into my ear as his dick breached me for the first time - his first time too, as a top - biting my earlobe in an effort not to come instantly. Damn, he was beautiful. Even then, impaled on his dick, lying on my back with my legs open like a whore, for him and<em> only </em>him, I knew he would lose. As he spilled inside me he muttered obscenities into my mouth, one hand wrapped around my dick, jerking me spasmodically as he came - until I joined him in release, my come sealing us together as he collapsed on top of me.<br/><br/>I have the Hero of the Battle of Hogwarts in all seasons. In the summer, we fuck outdoors in the manor gardens; gentle on the camomile paths surrounded by wild flowers or frenzied passion under the rose arbour. We’ve even danced the May rites in the garden in all weathers, naked as the day we were born, screaming our pleasure to the gods. I'm not sure if the birds have returned to the bird table in my Mother’s private garden, but I'm pretty sure the house elves regretted letting Severus in past the wards when he found us fucking in the fountain - his face may have gone white, but the air was blue. Harry came inside me with a shuddering moan, whilst staring at our former professor; if Harry hadn't been hammering my prostate into submission, I might have lasted, but the unwilling snort that escaped me when faced with Severus' outrage shorted my whole body and I came magnificently. I am still quite certain that he was more offended by me than by Harry.<br/><br/>In winter, we snuggle up in the red parlour. I figured Harry would love it for its Gryffindor connotations - all furnished in red and gold, with a real fireplace. Of course, it's also the only living room without a portrait - I can't see my father's wandering shade rejoicing in watching us screw each other madly in what was his favourite room. I thank whomever enchanted the fur rug in front of the fireplace almost daily; I don't know how much sweat and come we’ve deposited on it, but it remains pristine despite our best efforts. On colder days, this is where I introduce Harry to the pleasures of roasted chestnuts, mulled wine and toasted marshmallows.<br/><br/>I have a phoenix in my bed. I can push him to the point where he thinks he’s dying and make him shatter - under me, around me, inside me ... <em>how</em> I do it doesn't matter, as long as I do it. <em>Harry Potter</em> dies a little more each day, only to be reborn again as <em>my Harry</em>, only my Harry; and it is my touch that does it - that pushes him to the limit, dances with him on the edge of oblivion, sends him screaming into the void just to bring him back again - my touch: mine, and nobody else's.<br/><br/>I knew he was going to lose before we made love for the first time, when he was all sparkling eyes and nervous touches. I knew it when he opened up to me and trusted me to love him, and I knew it when he came, shuddering and quivering endlessly around my dick, uttering delicious little words of pleasure and love for me, dragging me over the edge with him until I found myself exhausted in his arms as he stroked my hair.<br/><br/>I like to think that Harry was always meant to lose, but that's not entirely true.<br/><br/>Do you want to know the first time I knew?<br/><br/>There were a couple of occasions before I knew for sure, like when he asked me out. </p><p>Oh, he <em>said</em> he wanted my opinion on the Ministry's new policy towards the Dark Arts: their <em>'Reduce the fear, reduce the harm' </em>campaign. He took me along to examine possible artefacts for display in their newest Black Museum. I had a faint hint of suspicion as Weasley turned and squinted at him, and Potter – <em>he wasn’t my Harry, yet</em> – deficient in deceit but plentiful in guilt, blushed quite fetchingly. I'm afraid the Malfoy smirk may have made an appearance, but even if it didn't then, it certainly appeared when Potter, instead of letting me Apparate home, grabbed my arm and made me the most awkward offer of <em>‘Coffee. ... or ... um ... something else?’</em> I've ever had the privilege of witnessing.<br/><br/>I joined him for that coffee. I will admit that I indulged in one with a generous swirl of whipped cream floating indulgently on the top. I sipped it slowly, enjoying the fact that I’d noticed Potter was completely fascinated by my tongue – giving in to the urge to show it a little more, I managed to get more cream around my lips than in my mouth. The temptation was irresistible. Can you blame me? Okay, I admit fellating my finger was <em>a little</em> too much; my mother would have had a heart attack, never mind my father's reaction ... <em>fuck </em>... but considering that I went home alone that day, it can be rightly said that we both lost. As I fucked my fist alone in the shower later, however, I realised one thing: I didn't <em>want</em> to lose.<br/><br/>I guess I really knew it the moment we jerked each other off for the first time. </p><p>We had been frotting heavily in an alley behind the - <em>okay</em>, fuck, we were horny and it was dark, and you'd be surprised how few people come and investigate strange noises in the dark! From there things escalated to mutual groping, and before we knew it each of us had a hand on the other's dick and I was pressing wildly against him as he devoured my mouth. The feeling of Harry, warm and hard, but soft as silk in my grip, as I thrust into those big hands of his ... I'm sure I'll never get enough. I certainly didn't get enough that night; as I spread the pre-come across the tip of his dick until it was completely sticky, I moaned into his mouth, telling him how much I wanted to suck him, to taste the unmistakable musk of him, that I’d let the sticky tip of his dick past my lips and let him fuck my mouth. He came then, thrusting into my hand and covering me with his essence, moaning my name reverently as he trembled, his grip reflexively strengthening around me as his hand sped up. I followed him over the precipice, gazing into his eyes as I went slack with pleasure. </p><p>We collapsed against each other, supporting each other to remain standing; kissing messily, mouths wet and soft against each other as we caressed our softening cocks with light touches. He whispered into my mouth what became a tradition for him: "I won," and then grinned like a loon. I'm sure I raised an eyebrow before he explained that he <em>came</em> first, and therefore he won. I don't know how I managed to keep myself from telling him that this wasn't a Quidditch championship. Perhaps what prevented me was the light in his eyes: brimful of wonder and delight, as if he had never been so alive and so happy. <em>Shit! </em>I just realised it’s his <em>'caught the snitch' </em>face.<br/><br/>I smiled and let go of his dick as we parted, bringing my sticky hand up to my mouth and licking it thoroughly, sucking each and every finger. I have to admit, knowing it was Harry's come I was tasting made me hard again. I licked my lips gratuitously, glancing up through my lashes at him, and then I discovered that Harry has black eyes when aroused; I think maybe he remembered the coffee incident. Without a word, he lunged forward and kissed me furiously, ravaging my mouth as he pressed himself against me. His dick, still free and wonderfully hard again, pressed against me insistently. <em>Hell</em><em>,</em> I wanted to suck it. He stared at me with dark eyes as I sank to my knees in front of him, his hand in my hair. I remember gazing at his dick, with its shining head, then dipping forward until my lips touched his silky-soft skin.<br/><br/>Knowing he was still going to be hypersensitive, I licked delicately all around the shaft, cleaning his come from his hot skin with my tongue. I teased the tight curls at the base of his shaft, burying my nose in his groin in an attempt to burn his unique scent into my memory. I'm not known for my patience, though, and Harry's beautiful cock, already leaking more pre-come, called me back like a hot toddy on a winter's eve. Barely taking the time to savour his sensitive glans, I sank his dick into my throat, in a desperate need to feel – to know – to own – this thing between us, whatever it was. Harry groaned above me and I drowned in Harry’s heated gaze as he watched me pull back off his length and then take him in once more, until my nose was buried in the soft fuzz of his pubic hair. Merlin, I <em>wanted</em> this. I wanted <em>him</em>. It was here that I knew <em>what</em> I wanted to win.<br/><br/>I wanted <em>Harry</em>, lock, stock and barrel, complete with spare parts and a lifetime guarantee. I’d always wanted him - his friendship, his attention, even his hatred was better than nothing. Merlin, it was all too easy to provoke him! You know, sometimes at school I didn't even need to <em>talk</em> to make him mad; sometimes he somehow just <em>anticipated</em> my reaction and yelled at me in advance to keep my mouth shut. Damn funny, looking back now. Not at the time, of course. I don’t know if you remember, but I was a little less cool-headed than I am now, and rolling in the mud and fighting with <em>Potter</em> wasn't my idea of fun. That was then. Frankly, <em>now</em> I think I'd roll anywhere with Harry. <em>Harry</em> is mine, and Potter was just some self-righteous, argumentative little prick he was before he was mine.<br/><br/>But I’ve gone off-topic – where was I? Ah yes, kneeling on the ground with my lips around Harry's meat.<br/><br/>And so there I am, sucking it deep while stroking my dick until it <em>hurts</em>. It didn't take long before we both came; him down my throat, and then me into my hand, spilling on the ground. I kissed his cock tenderly, now once again returned to a perfect size to hold in one hand. I reverently tucked him away and fastened his trousers, placing a longing kiss on the modest bulge between his legs.<br/><br/>Harry helped me up; he seemed almost groggy as he pulled me into a hug before I had time to step away. I felt his lips silently whisper something into my neck, <em>I don't know what</em> - and then he was kissing me. And he whispered, “C<em>ome home with me,'</em> into my mouth, and there was no way for my brain to interpret those words as a choice.<br/><br/>He Apparated us directly to his house, squeezing me tightly in his arms, as if I were likely to escape. I assure you I was not even considering it. I hardly noticed his place, that first time. He led me to a large bathroom where he undressed both of us, and we took a hot shower, learning each other's bodies with natural sponge, scented soap and wandering hands. Our third orgasm of the evening came slowly, exchanging soft caresses in the misty heat of the shower, guiding each other to completion with gentle sweetness rather than <em>need</em> and <em>necessity</em> driving us. I knew then that I couldn’t afford not to win; that I could not bear to lose.<br/><br/>We dried each other with soft towels and provocative kisses, making each other smile until we were finally dry and our bodies began to get too cool for comfort.<br/><br/>Harry drew me to his bedroom by the hand, pulled back the quilt, and jumped into the bed like an excited teenager, arms outstretched to welcome me. I remember feeling absurdly shy at that moment, as I crawled into his bed and then into his embrace, tangling my own limbs around him. We kissed for a while before snuggling close to each other to rest - at this point I'm pretty sure I told him he needed a bigger bed. We sprawlers need it, you know.<br/><br/>Of course, I still haven't told you yet when I knew I won. It didn't happen that night; we fell asleep in each other's arms and woke up in a much less romantic position. At least, so Harry tells me. I woke up in the perfect idyll of having my dick being sucked by Harry - and for a beginner, he’d mastered the art pretty fast. He came first again, fucking his fist furiously as he sucked me. Looking at his face, mouth wrapped around my swollen length as he came in an agony of pleasure, tipped me over the edge after him.<br/><br/>I pulled Harry in for a kiss, my arms wrapped around his body still trembling with aftershocks. I licked into his gorgeous mouth, drowning out his cocky assertion that he’d won, and then we both collapsed, exhausted, and he started breathing slow and deep, warm steady breaths into my neck. I closed my eyes to follow his lead, and was drifting off to sleep when he said it. Trust a damn Gryffindor to hit you when your defences are down and it's absolutely <em>obvious. </em>He said, "I love you, Draco. I really think I love you." </p><p>And then I knew. I knew I had won. Because I had got the prize. And you know what? At that moment I didn't even feel excited! I was just so damn <em>grateful! </em>He chose me – over anyone else in the world. I managed to win, even over him! I won, everyone else lost, and he just <em>gave</em> me that victory.<br/><br/>I couldn’t help my mouth curving in a smile before I’d even opened my eyes. I turned my head to look at him, met his lips with my own and muttered into his mouth, "I love you too, Harry."<br/><br/>It seems we've been together forever. I can't remember a time without him and I <em>refuse</em> to imagine one. He handed me the winning ticket, you know? You think I don’t know what I got?</p><p>Oh, I'm still <em>me</em>, and he's still him, and our fights are the stuff of legend in Weasleyville - but I know him, and he knows me. He knows that I would give him the moon and stars, and name nasty potions after him – no, wait, that was Severus after <em>The Incident</em>. But yeah, I'd move mountains for Harry (and have done - the first thing I did was to get rid of that ‘freedom of the press’ shit, so his private life is actually private). He knows it too. His latest Christmas present to me was a damn magical orrery, “So you don't have to go too far to move heaven and earth.” I love that man.<br/><br/>And so here we are, back at the beginning of my tale, and my poor Harry has <em>lost</em> ...<br/><br/>Did I tell you I love him when he's like this, lying on his back, legs spread as wide as he can for me? Dick so hard it is bouncing against the taut surface of his belly, both sticky with pre-come as he squirms under my touch.<br/><br/>My Harry. Lost to sensation; lost to pleasure; lost to <em>me</em><em>!</em><br/><br/>I'm just touching his inner thigh now, Delicate, featherlike strokes. It must be admitted that I have been caressing other parts of his body for over an hour, but always only small teasing caresses - the tips of my fingers and my lips – so so soft until his nerves are afire. His body quivers as I drift my fingers lightly over his abdomen, and then trail them down one leg, avoiding the area he wants me most ... I whisper to him wickedly, "Patience, baby, patience," as I lick a wide circle of skin around one nipple, and then I drag my tongue down his body until I reach his navel, fucking it hard. His dick jerks and bumps against my cheek, and I can make him moan just by breathing on it.<br/><br/>He's so bloody responsive and I really can't believe I’ve managed to tease him this long without giving in to my urge to fuck him. I'm pretty sure I mentioned that I'm not the patient type - and I know with painful certainty that Harry will revisit this pleasure-punishment on me again ... and that I will scream in desperate <em>want</em> while he's only <em>riding</em> his lust.<br/><br/>I lean over him and kiss into his open mouth; a little peck in the dark and he knows, he <em>knows,</em> the game is over. He arches towards me to kiss me properly, and, <em>hell</em><em>,</em> I can't push him away.<br/><br/>Harry's entire body is a study in debauchery, his mouth a perfect place to start. I crawl on top of him, hovering without giving him any friction as I plunder his mouth - allowing my tongue to re-acquaint itself with the taste of Harry and the feel of Harry and the <em>gods-fuck-suction </em><em>of Harry</em>; his tongue in my mouth dominating me utterly as he smirks up at me.<br/><br/>I almost collapse. Damn, I want to fuck him so bad. If Harry's self-satisfied smirk hadn't brought me back to reality, I think I'd be screaming his name with his dick deep in my arse right now.<br/><br/>I reverse slowly, tracing a path of kisses along his chest as my hand taps his inner thigh softly. He obediently lifts his legs, letting them fall to the side, and I settle between his thighs, contemplating perfection.<br/><br/>His dick is still dripping on his belly, but his balls are contracted in anticipation and I have a clear view of his hole; a dusky rose nestled sweetly between his butt cheeks, hairless and smooth, like his sac, for my pleasure.<br/><br/>Lying on the bed to get closer, I grab his arse with both hands and bend down to kiss that precious hole - <em>my</em> hole. His dick jerks and so do I; his opening quivers under my mouth. I smile against it and kiss him again, mouth open, breathing warm air on his entrance.<br/><br/>Harry's entire body shudders, and I hear his voice – a litany of curses and groans, alternating with my name and declarations of how <em>good</em> <em>it</em> is, how much he loves it. I love him for this – his abandonment to pleasure, abandonment to me - so open in this intensely private act.<br/><br/>I nudge his balls with my nose, dragging my tongue over his clean wrinkled flesh, until they are completely wet, sucking one into my mouth and then the other and massaging them gently with my tongue. I feel him twitch again and his dick bounces gently on his abdomen - the force of inertia perhaps slowed by the trail of clear fluid that joins the tip of his shaft to his belly.<br/><br/>I know his hole will have reacted too, and I can't keep myself from it a moment longer. I run my tongue along the seam of his balls, down the line of his perineum, straight to his entrance - my entrance.<br/><br/>At this point I just want to <em>get in</em>, and my tongue is in pole position. I swipe my tongue down his crack and across his hole wetly, feeling the heat of his most private place, leaving as much saliva as I can before dipping the tip of my tongue into that wonderful wrinkled flesh and <em>thrusting</em>. The tongue is the strongest and most versatile muscle in the body for its size, but trust me when I say Harry's sphincter puts up a good fight. It trembles and pouts under my lavish attention, and every time I press inwards, it tightens like a vice, forcing me out. Again and again my tongue begs to enter and is rejected. I growl, and lift my head slightly, slide my teeth over that tiny opening. Harry's litany of incoherent moans turns into a monologue of swearing as I take advantage of his momentary surprise and stick my tongue inside him.<br/><br/>I let go with one hand, sucking a finger into my mouth and making it all wet before sliding it all the way into Harry's tight arsehole. I can hear him panting softly as he contracts for a moment around the digit, but my finger isn't thick enough to cause him pain – he’s just getting used to the feeling of having something entering him again, instead of being expelled. I give him a good five seconds before pulling it out to the first knuckle and then pushing back in with ease, my mouth eager to be close again, breath warm and hot on his hole. My tongue flickers out to touch and taste my Harry, licking the finger I'm fucking him with and I’m practically drooling into his arse, my tongue trying to invade his ass along with my finger. Now I’m getting needy; little moans escaping me as I suck messily at Harry's opening, my finger fucking him eagerly and I will never get enough of the taste and the feeling and the pleasure.<br/><br/>I'm fucking hard as a rock. I know Harry is too; he's aching for release, urgently thrusting against my tongue, trying to impale himself on what obviously isn't enough to satisfy - if his pleas of <em>more, more, more</em> are any indication.<br/><br/>I prep two fingers now, eagerly sucking Harry's flavour from one of them and trying to wet both of them with new saliva - it never works and I don't know why I keep doing it - and then I'm back inside Harry, two fingers pushing in and out without giving him time to get used to it, because, <em>fuck,</em> we have done this before and I'm too fucking horny and he doesn't <em>need it</em>. I find myself squirming against the bed every time I push deep inside Harry and he has stopped rocking and is now shuddering against me. My tongue is back in action and Harry is now so wet he's dripping on the blanket, but I don't give a damn because, fuck, Harry's taste is a fucking aphrodisiac and I want to rut against in the bed, but I WON'T … This is too much, I won't last much longer. Shit, three fingers - a quick suck and my now-completely-sticky-wet hand has three fingers buried in Harry's hole and he's dizzy with delight.<br/><br/>I love to finger-fuck Harry. I could sit here and play with his arse all day, but then I'd miss out on other interesting parts like his dick and his mouth and, “When’s it <em>my</em> turn?” he asked me one ... hmm ... Tuesday (not sure it was a special day) when I tied him to the bed and made him come four times. So what's the excuse? I forgot, temporarily, that he likes to make me come as much as I like to do it to him, so a session of sex, a cuddle and a takeout curry later we were both okay again.<br/><br/>Three fingers and a stubborn tongue are no problem for him now and I fucking wanna be in there. It's kind hard to breathe with my tongue in Harry’s arse, and I'm still twisting my three fingers, his hole struggling a little more against me. I contort to suck my thumbs hard, and then my fingers are out and the thumbs are in – fingers gripping his butt as I spread his hole wide with my thumbs, a buffet of delicious smooth flesh as I push my tongue inside him.<br/><br/>There is nothing like the feel of your tongue against the hypersensitive flesh of the inner walls of the rectum. I can't push my tongue hard enough to lave it the way I'd like, but, fuck, I'm giving it a fucking good try! I once heard of a guy who tried an Engorgement charm on his partner to make the experience more satisfying – but damn, the tongue is the size it is for a reason! The guy had to be rushed to St Mungo’s because he couldn't breathe! Forget that though, I’m pushing my tongue into Harry as deep as possible, licking the delicate blood-rich walls of his rectum, widening his opening as he squirms and pushes against my mouth as I fuck him with my tongue. Damn, he’s beautiful. Is it any wonder I love this man?<br/><br/>I slip a thumb out, continuing to lick and suck on his entrance as if stopping was more than I could take - I think it would be, right now. My free hand runs up his body; caresses his tight sac for a moment and then gives his dick the lightest of strokes - he's not coming <em>this</em> soon - before moving up to his chest where it meets an expert hand already full of lube.<br/><br/>I grin around my tongue; Harry sings to me sometimes, "All you need is lube!"<br/><br/>But now my fingers are full of lube, and here they are back in Harry, and <em>wow</em>, it's all so slippery and yeah ... I get up on my knees and then stroke my cock lightly with my slick fingers, and all I can see is Harry's hole twitching from lack of stimulation and Harry whines, accompanies the movement with groans of need until I position myself at his entrance and push home.<br/><br/>And <em>fuckfuckYES</em> it is like home;  so fucking wonderful and hot and <em>right</em> – so tight around me. Harry's internal muscles are working overtime as the rest of his body shuts down, and in the silence of our room I can hear our breath, hot and heavy as he adjusts to the penetration.<br/><br/>I watch his face with barely restrained hunger, and <em>there</em> is that shy smile – I can <em>move</em> and, <em>shit</em>, I bet this is <em>gonna</em> be the fastest fuck of my life.<br/><br/>Harry responds to my thrusts with little twists of those fucking hips, and <em>it's too good</em> and I can't do anything to stop him and it's not <em>fair</em> that he has so much self-control when I'm already losing it – and then it's too late. Harry's eyes squeeze shut as I hit his sweet spot; I can barely handle six thrusts before Harry comes hard, come ripped out of him like cream from a dropped pot. He tightens around me and I <em>wish</em> it could last, but it <em>can't</em> and he's squeezing it out of me – <em>shit –</em> I can feel it in my balls and it’s almost painful and my head roars. I press into him harder, crashing my hips against Harry as he gets ravaged by my dick, I slam it into him hard and <em>oh oh oh, I can't</em> … <em>where’s his fucking mouth?</em> <em>AAaahhhhhhhhhhhhrrrrrgggghhh ...</em><br/><br/>... and then I’m kissing him awkwardly as I keep thrusting into his arse. My dick spurts its final jet of spunk inside Harry’s quivering hole and I almost collapse on top of him, feeling his skin – hot and sticky with sweat against mine, and it's too much and it's never enough - and now, fuck, I'm kissing those beautiful lips and his arms wrap around me, and he whispers in my ear that ‘We're fucking amazing and shit, he needs to sleep for a week, and if I keep him waiting that long again he'll die, and am I cold?’<br/><br/>Harry summons a blanket from the rocking chair and covers us up, chiding me softly for trying to move, because he likes the feel of softening dick in his arse. I give up, because I don’t have the energy to do anything more than roll off anyway, so I just lay there, tangled in heat and Harry, listening to him mutter to me that he loves us, and he loves me and that he won again. As a sleepy chuckle escapes me, he kisses my head and tells me that maybe one day he'll let me win.<br/><br/>And I let him indulge in his little fantasy that he is anything but a loser, because I'm clearly the winner here, even if he can't see it.<br/><br/></p><p>fin</p>
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